Saturday, August 29, 2015


Bagai pelita di lautan kelam 
Kujinjing api kecil 
     Mencari sinar dalam gelita.

On carrying a kind heart

I do not look at them, the patients. I let my line of sight skim over them. I let the forlorn faces blur into the indistinct background. I ignore the bandages and IV lines, the grimy tiles of the floor, the flecks of blood not yet cleaned on the scuffed floor.

I do my work and I am polite but some mistake manners for servility. I am anything but that. I am earnest to the unsuspecting eye but really I am not. I am sincere though and I try to be kind to everyone. I delight in smiling at strangers, I delight in treating people like the human souls that they are. Other than that? I hate the hours. The inconsiderate circumstance of being overworked. I like service but I don't wish to be forced into it. It's unfortunate. Some people are helpful and some aren't. I despair when I'm subjected to inconsideration. 

There is enough stress and anxiety in a building full of sick people. Why go the extra mile to trouble a seeking soul?

I do not understand. 

It is 2 am and I am too tired for sleep. Exhaustion bleeds over, turns into anxiety that become unpleasant dreams. 

Struggle. This is struggle. I carry my weight and hope my heart withstands the trials of dispassion.

Friday, August 28, 2015

Wednesday, August 19, 2015


And I know that during all those times when I touched my forehead to the ground, closed my eyes and reached out with my heart, supplicating, that my prayer is not unheard.

Never unheard.

This feeling of absoluteness when I beseech to God, that He hears and better yet, He answers.

Not in words but in more than words; in the very proceedings of my life's path. His Mercy through the generosity of the people around me, His Bounty in the good company that surrounds me, His Barakah in the voices of my own heart. 

As quoted in the Qur'an, "Verily with hardships, come ease." (94:4-5) For He does not burden a soul with more than it could bear.

I am grateful. With gratitude, I will myself to be patient, and to always, have faith.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Puisi lepas marah

Apakah keluarga kalau tak bersemuka, tak berjumpa? 
Keluarga takat darah?

Baik tak payah.

Monday, August 10, 2015


Aku masih muda
darah laju dalam badanku berkata 
Aku masih punyai masa
angka muda usiaku sampuk seraya 

Kehidupan itu puisi
Cinta itu Agung
Kata-kata hikmat ini kuukir
seribu kali dibalik pintu hati

Sampai kesudah aku Roman
Sahut jiwaku;

Akulah yang Satu
Persis suara gelapnya;

Jiwaku bersangka dirinya
sang pendekar bahasa,
pelaut berani bahtera mimpi,
peneroka unggul alam ideal

Bukan hari ini 
Jantung kencangku berbisik 
Sampai mati 
Janji ikhlas aku tebarkan ke angkasa.

Sunday, August 9, 2015

Buat kamu

Ingin ku tulis buatmu 
Sebuah sajak; 
Sajak sebilah perasaan,
Sajak segenggam jiwa,
Sajak setangkal nyawa, 
Sebagai tanda sang setia 

Ingin ku belah hati ini
Biar lepas binatang liar
Biar lepas yang meronta

Kian hari, kian lagi
Di dalam tandus singgahsana 
Yang berdebu di dalam tunggu
Hanya bintang dan gelap

Saturday, August 8, 2015


An uncle passed away yesterday. I could write of grief that is not mine but it feels like a transgression. So let us not speak of death.


It has been nine months and the ever present parch remains. Ramadhan came, Ramadhan went and I? I did not do enough. I did not let myself feel the full heat of its white fire. I wanted to, I almost tried harder but I did not. I let myself idle in the heat and thirst. I did fast, I recite and I go to taraweeh... yet it was not with particular zeal. Something more was missing. 

What bothers me most is I did not (like I did last year), khatam the Qur'an, and that sealed my private failure. 

I know the sweetness of the Qur'an, I have tasted it and thus I know the bitterness of it's absence. 

Even the song has bled out of my recitation. 

Perhaps it is time for me to embrace this impending change heading my way. A life of hard work and service. Perhaps I will drown in anguish in my riling against it (as I always do, I quote myself "Change, on its advent do not sit well with me").

Perhaps it is for the best that I be faced with sickness, suffering and death as one is surrounded with at a hospital. I confess, I have never been a fan of hospitals. Too much grief under one roof. But it is for the best God-willing.

I have let myself rot in this idleness. Hard work and service should rouse me. I hope I shall have the strength to not rankle. 

One can lay down and pray for taqwa and yet do nothing to achieve it. I am one such person in my present condition. What do they call it? 

A state of Futur. A sudden break after a joining. An unmaking of a making. A stopping after progress. A sudden lack of movement after movement.

I should not fear struggle. To be a Muslim is to struggle. Islam is striving. A Muslim without jihad is a Muslim in wanting. I must surrender my apprehension and look upon the future with once again, the eyes of a student.

I will learn. For the act of learning is jihad, and the learner a mujahid. 

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

this will not bring me down

The fighter does not sing of defeat, the fighter wears victory and loss in their bones, trailing shards of their own heart in their wake. Their companions the celestial bodies high above, shadows on the hard path and dust in the fickle wind. The fighter falls often yet despite it all, always simply;

forges on.

Old marks

I opened my copy of Attar's Conference of the Birds last night, and read the first few pages. I skimmed over the lines I had underlined with a pen. 

They're still as beautiful as I first read it. Yet I felt dismay pervading me. If there was a cause, an explanation for the feeling, I did not find it.

Monday, August 3, 2015


If gratitude could be made manifest, it would be something so intricate and beautiful that nothing could ever compare.

This is what prayer is. 

A prostration of the entire being; body, soul and will - in gratitude of The One's benevolent will.

Gratitude to people, is gratitude to Him.

Saturday, August 1, 2015


It is raining. In torrents. Is it a sunnah or an ayah that prayer made during rainfall is mustajab? I don't know.

This reminds me of that sunnah of Rasulullah exposing a part of his body to the rain, a sign of gratitude for the blessing of water.

I'm going to go out and let the rain fall into my hands. And pray.